FireDancing Abariginies
by Sirens
Summary: Two girls with problems, tormenting people from another dimension. What could possibly be wrong with that?


Disclaimer: We decided to appease one of our best friends and write a story, but we're not naming any names. *cough* Rachel *cough* Anyway, we are not making with the owning of anything Buffy and Angel. Depressing but true.  
  
Past tense narrative is subject to change at any time. We don't like to be glued down by pesky things like sense. or grammar or THE LAWS OF LITERATURE *resounding voice*  
  
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This story starts out like any good story should, with a question. Can a crazy person or two really make a difference?... scratch that, a little retarded wasn't it? How bout'.kick a little ass?  
  
Our story begins with us. Us being a crazy person or two that are more that slightly paranoid. Us, you know the crazy ones, tend to carry around what we like to call "survival provisions." This basically is a slightly lunch box sized insulated bag that holds everything you would ever need if say a tornado hit or an earthquake happened or you had an evil sadistic brother who locked you out of the house while your parents were away for a week and wouldn't let you back in. Bastard. Anyway, our story begins on a day where these packs actually came in -more than a little, meaning a lot- handy.  
  
That day dawned bright and sunny, like any other, but it didn't stay that way for long, obviously. During the first 90 minute block of the day, the sky had begun to turn exceedingly dark greenish-gray. What could this be a sign of? If you don't know, I'm not tellin'. So anyway, I, Leah, and my friend Michele were sitting there in Spanish when.  
  
Wait! Hey! Why do you get your name first and sound like you're a hero or something?  
  
Aah shuddup, I'm talking here! So anyway, we were sitting there and the wind starting blowing fierce against the windows and making a loud whistling noise. This was happening for a while before we heard the warning over the announcements. They told us that "Our area is now under a 'tornado watch' and all students and staff should be prepared to evacuate the classrooms to the basement. All those who do not fit in the basement are to find a doorway or go to an outdoor ditch for safety." A split-second after this announcement ended we saw it.  
  
When you think of tornados, you think of these cartoon things that suck up the coyote and once again foil his plans to catch that stupid bird. That is not what they're like. A philosophical person might describe them as the straws of God, sucking up whatever is in their path. They don't distinguish between rich and poor or young and old. They're completely impartial. The last thing we saw before darting to the basement was a TV in the room opposite our class just ending a spree of flicking on and off as two girls from our class giggled and slipped a remote control in a bag.  
  
We were the second class in and Michele and I snuck towards our usual hangout to avoid doing work during the plays. We were down there for about ten minutes before the power went out and Michele and I had a good time laughing behind our hands at the people who weren't prepared for a black- out like us. As people were screaming their heads off *cough cough* cheerleaders and various non-manly football players *cough*, Michele and I slipped behind a table leaned against the wall and disappeared.  
  
During one of our many excursions avoiding work during the plays, we stumbled upon a hole in the concrete wall. After exploring one of the many tunnels, one which leads to the boiler room and finding beer cans and cigarettes on the floor, we named it "The Janitor's Night Club." We had explored the tunnels thoroughly, but there was one that we always avoided as it was darker and creepier than the rest. All the strip lighting was broken and there were big pipes blocking most of the narrow space. But all the rooms we had found so far were unsuitable to the conditions we needed. We couldn't stay in the boiler room because all sorts of evil things can happen in the boiler room under normal conditions, imagine during a tornado. What if the boiler exploded? So this time we decided to go down the unexplored hallway in search of more appropriate safe housing.  
  
As we crawled down this dark corridor we stopped to take out and crack our handy-dandy tomb raider-like glow sticks. (Try saying that three times fast.while standing on your head with a banana in your mouth balancing a fish bowl on your feet while trying to keep the banana from a crazed starving monkey!) The glow-sticks radiated just enough light for us to see by. We had made it a fair distance down the narrow area before the first shock wave hit. It came along with a loud gonging noise that let us know we had made it all the way to the church near by the school. We deduced that something heavy must have hit the organ. Along with the note came a kind of visible sound wave that reverberated all around us and seemed to go through us. We felt slightly shaky but continued on our trek.  
  
We had shaken off the feeling as nothing important but as we continued down the tunnel, we started to take notice of things that couldn't possibly be from a small town like ours. There were noises above us like the sounds of backed up traffic and a small town like ours would never get that kind of noise. We made our way under the nearest drainage grill and crawled up the ladder to the side and out on the sidewalk in front of a restaurant called "Hell's Kitchen."  
  
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"What the como? Where are we?"  
  
"How should I know? I've been with you the whole time Leah. There wasn't a memo."  
  
"Well thank you princess sarcasm. I think we need a plan."  
  
"Oh you do, do you? Stan."  
  
*Shakes head* "What is your problem Phyllis?"  
  
"Same as yours Thelma Louise."  
  
"What, you got a melting chocolate bar in your pocket too Rosemoyne McGillacutty?"  
  
"Yes.yes I do.ummm.Sampsonite."  
  
"Wow Coleman, you got probaluns don't you?"  
  
"Yesumeo, me amigo. Por favor we a-speaka Ingles.eo"  
  
"Yobou obare sobuch oba lobosober Mobichobele."  
  
"Back to the current problem of 'where the Hell is we and why the hell would they want us.'?"  
  
"Ok then...*mumbles* George." *whistles innocently*  
  
"Ok, that's gone on far enough. and to answer my own question *looks at her watch* twenty seconds ago, I'd say by look of the streets and the number of people on yonder corner with not so many covering clothes on, we are in a pretty big city."  
  
"But how did we get to a city? Last I knew we were about fifty yards away from the school and at least six hours from the nearest large city. We were only down there for about ten minutes. That's it. I have classified this as a conundrum of massive proportions."  
  
"Or.it could be we've been somehow transported into an alternate reality by a magically induced sound wave that brought us to potential amusement. Who has Mulder and Scully on speed dial?"  
  
"Not I, but still, a brilliant deduction Watson!"  
  
"Hey, why do you get to be the suave detective type and I have to be the sidekick? Attention junky!!"  
  
"Because I'm cooler than you and that's that. Can we move on please? I think we should find out exactly what city we're in."  
  
"Let's do that."  
  
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End file.
